Right or Wrong
by singedbylife
Summary: Xander faces what he's always dreaded. Set 4 years after BtVS S7.


"**Right or Wrong" or "Secrets"**

"Well, take it off, pillock!"

Xander blanched but he nodded and pulled off his t-shirt and began fumbling with his pants. He blinked trying to get rid of the ridiculous excess moisture suddenly appearing in his eye.

It was just sex and there was no reason to get upset about it. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before even though he'd never been with someone he didn't actually want to be with. Faith maybe but hormones and his dick had taken over back then. The experience certainly hadn't scared him off of sex.

Sex with a _man_ on the other hand was something else.

Glancing at the slender man standing next to him made his head spin. Doing it with a guy was frightening. Doing it with _Spike_ was flat out terrifying.

What would be worse? The pain which was sure to follow or the humiliation of having somebody's – _Spike's – _dick up his ass?

Who was he kidding? The answer to that question was the humiliation. And it wasn't just the actual act. It was the fact that he was fairly certain that he would respond physically to being close to Spike. As soon as Spike would place his cool hands on his hips or on his shoulders or press his thighs up hard against his own, Xander would become aroused. Even now, it was already very distracting being this close to the vampire.

And no matter how wrong everything was and would become, Xander knew he couldn't fool Spike. It wouldn't even require a specific vampire sense to figure it out. All Spike would have to do would be to take one look at Xander's hard-on and that would be it. And Xander just couldn't bear the thought that Spike would know that he had turned Xander on.

It wasn't that Xander considered himself a homophobe.

In fact, he was perfectly fine with people being gay or bi or whatever. But when it came to _him…_ – well, when it came to him it was something else entirely. He wasn't a bigot. He knew that his screwed up emotions were all caused by Tony telling him over and over throughout his entire joke of a childhood that being gay was disgusting, unnatural and _wrong_. Even now, it didn't matter that Xander knew that none of these derogatory descriptions were true. The aversion had been drilled into him and somehow seemed to be stuck inside his very core. He _felt_ it. And maybe even more so because he was aware of the fact – and had always known – that he was one of them.

It was a secret he'd never let anybody in on. He wasn't ready. Didn't he'd ever have the guts. To think that in just a few more minutes, Spike - who detested gay men just like Tony always had (yeah, Xander knew what 'poofter' and 'ponce' meant!) that Spike was about to find out how Xander truly reacted to a male body as fit and perfect as Spike's was… beyond horrific. How was he ever gonna get through this? Looking at Spike right now sure didn't help.

Xander rubbed his face and moved towards the coach to sit down. He felt completely wrung out.

Spike had shown up as agreed, smelling faintly of whisky and cigarette smoke. Xander hadn't been able to meet his eyes as he invited him inside. He hadn't seen Spike for nearly 4 years. Not since Sunnydale. And now _this_…

But he did notice the black jeans and the docs. The bleached hair and the long black leather duster. Predatory and bad ass and seemingly unchanged. Looking good. It had taken him by surprise when Spike unceremoniously had begun shrugging out of his clothes before they'd even had a chance to sit down and talk. Right now, Spikes clothes were lying in a heap on the floor right next to Xander's TV and Spike was very much naked.

Xander's hands shook. He couldn't open his fucking pants. He glanced up sideways and met a disdainful looking scorn and a raised eye brow. Spike opened his mouth as if to say something.

"Stop! Don't even! I don't wanna hear it!" Xander sneered but his voice sounded thin and desperate. He wanted to fling insults at Spike like he used to do whenever he felt insecure but he couldn't think of any. Instead he clenched his teeth and looked hard at Spike, silently daring him.

He felt slightly satisfied when his glare made Spike's eyes flicker and turn away.

Xander exhaled slowly.

"Bet you're enjoying this," he said. He didn't wait for Spike's reply as he continued,

"I don't know what I've done to deserve this. I… I don't want it! I don't fucking want _you!_"

He glanced back up and found Spike staring at him, eyes nearly black. Then Spike pursed his lips and said in a cold voice:

"_Cheers_. Tell you what. Why don't you go out and find yourself another vamp and let him take care of your little problem? When you're done be sure to ring us and let us know how that went, alright?"

With these words, Spike stomped over to his pile of clothes, bent and retrieved a packet of cigarettes and his lighter from his duster. He pulled out a cigarette with an angry motion and moved to lit it. Then he paused and shook his head and put the cigarette slowly back. He stood and turned around to stare at Xander.

This time Xander had to look away… If only he hadn't gone patrolling that night! It wasn't like they needed his assistance anyway.

He'd been walking outside the cemetery, stake in hand with a couple of young slayers when he'd heard an odd screeching sound behind a plant growing up the stone wall. He'd checked it out, stupidly sticking his hand in between the leaves. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground, bitten by something small which had instantly skittered away and out of reach and sight. The bite hurt like hell and looked anything but natural.

It turned out that he'd been bitten by a Quahrrachlian demon or so Giles had told him that very same night.

Quahrrachlians were small. Only about three inches long and rat like in appearances. They had two rows of sharp and pointy teeth inside their oddly angular mouths which left some very distinctive bite marks. They were ugly as hell but then, so were most demons.

Quahrraclians were extremely rare. You had to be more than just exceptionally unfortunate to run into one, let alone scare it enough to make it actually attack you. That was a good thing because once you were bitten, a deadly magic poison entered your body and in the end you would become terminally ill and die. Usually within just a short line of few years.

There was a cure.

As Giles had relayed this good news to Xander, he had cleared his throat and shooed the girls out of his office.

While polishing his glasses meticulously, Giles had related to Xander just how this cure worked. As it turned out, a vampire must, quote, "empty its seed inside the Quahrrachlian bite victim while simultaneously biting and sucking on the same spot as the Quahrrachlian had originally infected."

Xander's eye brows had shot up and Giles had had the decency to blush a little as he continued "These penetrations (and Xander shuddered at the word) must be carried out as soon as possible, I'm afraid. No later than a week from now on."

"There are – as you know – two male vampires who will be able and hopefully willing to help you out…"

Yeah. There was. Angel and Spike. So Xander could look forward to vampire penetration by fangs and…

"This is horrible, Giles!"

"Quite," Giles replied. "But I'm afraid there is no other way, Xander."

Once Xander had collected himself it hadn't been that difficult to decide whom to call. No matter what, Xander did _not_ want Angel to shove his dick up Xander's ass.

Xander's memories were interrupted by the sound of Spike's voice.

"How do you think _I_ feel about this? Think I enjoy this situation? Think I want to shag someone who doesn't want to be with me? Who's scared that I'm going to hurt him?"

Xander didn't reply.

"Oh, right, that's true. You really do believe that, don't you? I'm the monster, who tried to rape Buffy, aren't I? Well, here's the truth, Harris: I would never have raped her. Saw her face and her fear an' it made me sick to my stomach!"

"Yet here I am, supposed to shag you despite the fact that you don't want me to. I'm a man, Harris! Can't pretend to be turned on. Can't pretend to come either!"

He drew in a breath and continued in a lower voice.

"I know you think of me as nothing but a demon but I have never gotten off on sexual abuse. Violence and mayhem and killing – yes! But never rape. And if you knew me at all you would bloody well know that!"

Xander flinched a bit at the anger and hurt in Spike's voice but he didn't say anything.

Spike sighed. "I just… want you to know that this isn't easy on either of us, alright?"

Xander buried his face in his hands. He did know that.

"I'm just so fucking scared, Spike. I don't know what to do!"

Spike came closer.

"Look. The way I see it we just have to… help each other, right? I won't hurt you, I swear. Don't bloody want to."

Xander looked up at him. "Why?" he asked. "Why don't you wanna hurt me? Get back at me somehow?"

Spike frowned. "I don't have anything against you, Xander. Never did, really. And you didn't treat me badly there in the end. Didn't even try to get me killed."

He smiled crookedly but his eyes looked serious. "For the likes of me that's almost the same as being treated nicely."

Xander snorted and smiled a bit at Spike and watched as a moment of relief and surprise played over Spike's face.

"Okay" He bit his lip and finally managed to open his pants buttons and moved to shove the jeans down his legs.

"Wait," Spike said.

"It took me a while to get here, actually. Think I would like to take a shower first if that's alright with you?"

"Uhm, yeah. Sure."

"Great. Have you got any slick?"

"No," Xander replied miserably once again reminded about what was to come. Not like he'd be able to forget it anyway with Spike standing right in front of him in all his pale, male marble glory.

"S'alright. Think I've some in my bag." Spike trotted back to his stuff and rummaged through his duffel bag. He found a small bottle in a side pocket and went inside Xander's bedroom. Then he returned and while not quite looking at Xander, said "Why don't you join me, Xander? In the shower, I mean?"

"Join you?" Xander squeaked.

"Yeah, it'd be nice and give us a chance to get used to each other. Well, give you a chance to get used to being naked around me that is." Spike smirked a little.

Xander didn't think it was possible to get used to staring at a naked Spike.

"But…," Xander's voice trailed off. "I was thinking we could turn off the lights and…"

"No!" Spike interrupted. "Don't want to do this in the dark. Need to see whom I'm with."

"But you're with _me_! Surely you don't wanna be reminded that you're fucking me instead of some hot chick… Or someone you like… like Buffy," he added reluctantly.

"S'not like I wouldn't be able to tell the difference, you berk! And sure I do! I want to be able to see you. Make sure that you're alright. Otherwise you can just forget about it and call Angel right now. The old hypocrite prefers to do it in the dark anyway, so that should suit you good and proper. And he won't care one whit about how you feel once he's started but at least he's going to be quick about it. Not like in the old days where he'd make sure to drag it out for hours and hours and make it _hur_…"

Spike abruptly stopped and looked at Xander with wide eyes that looked shocked, embarrassed and imploring. Xander stared at him and for the first time ever, he felt sympathy for Spike. He even felt a bit sorry for him.

Spike closed his eyes momentarily. Then he reached out a hand which Xander took after only a moment's hesitation.

"So… Pet. There it is. And I _will_ look at you and you'll look at me. Because this is about you an' me and about doing it right, right? And we're going to take our time and make it as good as is bloody possible, isn't that so?"

A sense of anticipation ran through Xander. He squeezed Spike's hand. "Yeah," he whispered and stood up.


End file.
